


january in august.

by bluejune



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, M/M, Talk of Suicide, i watched the end of the fucking world and now? we're here, mark is a sad bitch, the opposite of slow burn bc i cant write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-21 15:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejune/pseuds/bluejune
Summary: "Jaebum, breathe."For a second, he felt like he could. Something about Mark's presence, his gentle touch- it felt like they were somewhere else. Somewhere calm. Somewhere where Jaebum's jeans weren't soaked in blood.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> and so i stay up late, staring at the moon, waiting desperately for you to come home.

It’s funny, now, thinking about what a simple constant Mark Tuan had once been. They’d known each other since, fuck, elementary school. Sure, they didn’t really talk much before  _ it _ happened, but they saw each other sometimes. They had mutual friends. Mark had been fucking Jaebum’s best friend from middle school since late February. 

 

Fucking was an ugly way to put it. They were  _ boyfriends _ now, Youngjae loved to remind him. Jaebum had always thought Jackson didn’t deserve Mark. It was like nobody  _ deserved _ Mark Tuan. He was the prettiest boy in their city and every time he laughed, an angel gained its wings. Somehow, he’d always felt so above all of them. 

 

The last interaction Jaebum and Mark had before  _ it  _ happened, they were both drunk. Well, Mark was drunk. Jaebum had switched to water hours ago, seriously wondering why the fuck Jinyoung still invited him to these parties. They were all the same. Youngjae would cling to him for the first hour and inevitably leave him to talk to someone hotter; less best friend type. Girls would talk to him for about five minutes at a time, leaving him to rot once they realized how dry he was. Everyone would giggle and squeal at some couple getting way too comfortable on Jinyoung’s couch before he kicked them out. 

 

Jaebum would be harshly reminded that all of his friends had better friends for an entire night. 

 

So it was strange to have Mark Tuan leaning sort of into, but not quite on his shoulder- completely wasted. Not even the fun kind of wasted. The kind of wasted that made you feel like calling your mom and apologizing for being wasted. He sniffled periodically, and Jaebum would have to look down to make sure he wasn’t crying.

 

“Are you okay?” Jaebum asked finally, painfully. 

 

Another sniff. “I mean, no.” Fuck.

 

“Oh.”  _ Fuck _ . “Sorry.”

 

Mark shook his head, burying himself further into the cushions of Jinyoung’s nasty ass, raggedy ass couch. Jaebum didn’t want to think about all the weird sex Jinyoung had on this fucking couch. Especially not with Mark sitting next to him. But it was hard to ignore the stain right next to Mark’s ass.

 

“Uh, hey,” Jaebum said awkwardly, pointing to it. Mark made a disgusted, “ _ Oh _ ,” and scooted away from it. Scooted closer to Jaebum. And that had never mattered until, well, this very moment. 

 

“Why are you- why are you not okay?” he asked, coughing. Mark let out a heavy sigh. 

 

“You know,” he whispered, “when you drink a lot and start thinking too much?” Jaebum nodded. “That’s… where I’m at right now.” They were silent for a few moments, taking in all the other sounds and sights around them. Why the fuck did Jinyoung keep inviting him to these parties? 

 

Jaebum folded his arms. “What are you thinking about?” 

 

Mark snorted and shook his head. “So much. So fucking much.” More silence. 2015’s greatest hits screamed at them through Jinyoung’s speakers. “Like how much I hate it here. Right now. Always.” 

 

He wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. He’d never really expected Mark to be a sad kind of drunk. Maybe he just didn’t know shit about him, after all. 

 

“Talk to me about something you don’t hate,” he found himself saying. Mark sighed like Jaebum had said something wrong. Then again, he was always saying the wrong thing. Maybe Mark didn’t know shit about him, either. 

 

“Only if you let me get sentimental.” 

 

He let his silence serve as an answer. 

 

Another sigh. “I don’t hate Jinyoung. I hate his parties, and I hate his house, and I hate the front he puts up sometimes.. But he’s my best friend. And I fucking torture myself at these things because I love him. You know?”

 

Jaebum kind of did. “What else?” 

 

“Shit, I dunno.” He looked down at the shiny, silver watch resting on his wrist. He smiled. “I don’t hate this watch. I’m not really a watch person, you know, but someone special bought it for me a while back. I guess it’s dumb, but.. It’s sort of like a reminder. Fuck, I don’t know.”

 

Jaebum smiled back. “Nah, I get it.” And then, he can’t help himself. “Do you hate me?”

 

“Well, of course,” Mark replied, and he couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not. “I gotta hate everyone. What else do dumbass teenagers do, right?” 

 

Jaebum looked at him. “You think of yourself like that?” he asked, barely audible over the music. Mark shrugged. 

 

“I think a lot of things about myself. Too many things. Like, I’m obsessed with myself.” Jaebum didn’t know why he put a hand on his arm, but he did it. It caught Mark’s attention, and he looked up at him. Directly in the eyes. An unreadable moment.

 

He’d switched to water  _ hours _ ago.

 

Just like that, Mark turned away and it was over. “Fuck, I’m so drunk. I need to go before I start telling you all my problems. Shit, I kind of did that, didn’t I? God.” 

 

Jaebum shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Who drove you here? I’ll help you find them.” Mark stilled, his expression turning to something unsure. And suddenly, things made sense again. Suddenly they were part of the real world again. The world outside of Jinyoung’s couch. 

 

He inhaled. “Jackson,” he said, obviously trying to sound confident about it. He swallowed. “I can go find him on my own, don’t worry about it.” He coughed. “Thanks. For, you know. Listening to me. I’m sorry if I don’t remember this- this whole thing later.” 

 

Something felt so wrong.  _ Something _ . 

 

Jaebum waved goodbye, and Mark Tuan went back to being the boy he saw in the halls sometimes. 

 

After that, the night was pretty normal. Jaebum found a  little more than tipsy, tired Youngjae and walked him home. Their ride had evidently left hours ago- something about just not feeling it tonight. He wasn’t that upset. Youngjae was too excited for him to be mad. 

 

“I just had so much fun!” he kept giggling. He’d said it, like, three times in the past five minutes. “Didn’t you have fun? Jinyoung’s friends are so  _ nice _ . One of them- shit, I don’t remember his name. Anyway, one of them was telling me he’s gonna propose to his girlfriend next week. How  _ sweet!  _ God, that’s so.. That’s so exciting!” Youngjae was slurring his words and stumbling everywhere. For some reason, it wasn’t gross when it was him. 

 

It was hard to sneak him in like this, but they managed. Evidently his mom was out of town, anyway. “And you know dad doesn’t give a shit,” Youngjae had added as Jaebum tried desperately to get him up the fucking stairs. 

 

Finally, they made it to his room, and Jaebum practically shoved him into bed. “Don’t get up,” he said, “Night.” Youngjae snatched his wrist, laughing to himself.

 

“Wait,” he said between giggles. “I love you! I love you, Jaebum,” he yawned. “You’re my best friend. Like, ever. You know that? My fucking..  _ Best _ friend, Jaebum.” Jaebum rolled his eyes, smiling anyway.

 

“Yeah, I know. Go to sleep.”

 

If life was perfect, things would’ve stayed this way. Mark would go on with his life. Maybe come to a mutual understanding with Jackson and inevitably break up with him. Maybe marry him, or something. Jaebum and Youngjae would go on being friends. Jinyoung would go on inviting them to those stupid fucking parties. And maybe Jaebum would fall in love with him, or something.

 

Life is far from perfect.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hand travelled from Mark’s shoulder to lace their fingers together. In that moment, he didn’t feel confused at all. He just.. Felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this time next year i won't even remember your name.

Things were weird for the next couple of days. The sky was gray and the nights seemed to be darker, somehow. The days.. were complicated.

 

Jinyoung had randomly cut himself off from the world, coming to school for first and second period before leaving and not coming back for days. He wouldn’t answer Jaebum or Youngjae’s texts. They figured he’d fucked up somehow and they’d see him again when the rest of the world got over it. 

 

Youngjae clinged to him more than usual. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried about Jinyoung or he was just feeling clingy, but he didn’t mind it. It was hard to be annoyed with him when he looked so stressed.

 

“Exams,” he’d mumbled when Jaebum asked what was wrong. Sure. Exams. 

 

Youngjae and Jinyoung weren’t the only ones acting weird. Jaebum hadn’t talked to Mark since the party, and neither had anybody else, apparently. He was around. It was hard to miss him, with that bleach blond hair of his. Usually, if you could find Jackson, you could find Mark. That had changed over the weekend. 

 

If Jaebum didn’t know any better, he’d think they were avoiding each other. 

 

When he told Youngjae about this, he received a sad expression. “Oh, yeah. Mark is in my class with Ms. Hammer. He’s been really quiet lately. Like, more quiet than he always is, you know? He just looks so.. Sad.” Youngjae had this terrible habit of borrowing trouble. If someone else was upset, he was upset. He would even work himself up and talk to Jaebum about  _ other _ people’s problems. They could make a sort of casual comment like, “Oh, I have two essays to do this weekend,” and Youngjae would stress about it for the next week.

 

So he had clearly been affected by this whole Mark situation. 

 

“I just hope he’s okay. I know we don’t really know him, but he’s a really sweet guy. Like, he’s never a dick to  _ anyone _ .” Youngjae also had this terrible habit of seeing only the good parts of people. Because almost all of Youngjae’s parts were good parts. Why wouldn’t that be the same for everyone else? 

 

Jaebum shrugged and patted him awkwardly on the arm. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said, but he really wasn’t. An ugly part of him hoped he wasn’t fine. It was so nice to think of Mark Tuan being just as human as the rest of them. 

 

Things started to make sense that Friday, when Jackson made a huge fucking scene during lunch. Maybe because he cared about Mark. Maybe because he wanted to make a scene. Mark wouldn’t entertain him and pushed passed all of his friends, eyebrows furrowed as he pretended not to hear Jackson yelling about how they needed to  _ talk _ about this, for Christ’s sake,  _ Mark _ . 

 

On his way out, they made eye contact. It felt like he was looking directly into the sun. Jaebum thought he could stare at him like this for hours. Years. 

 

Something in Mark’s eyes seemed to change, his gaze turning into something new. 

 

And Jaebum thought,  _ I’m going to die. Here, in this cafeteria. And Youngjae will have to tell everyone at my funeral that Mark Tuan killed me.  _

 

Just like that, it was over and Mark was gone. He felt a strange sense of deja vu, thinking of Jinyoung’s couch and one too many drinks. He wanted to grab Mark and ask him everything. What he was thinking. Why he was upset. Why he ever dated Jackson fucking Wang in the first place. Why they never talked. Why he thought to tell him all that shit when he was drunk. Who was the person that gave him that watch. Why did they matter. Could he ever matter to him like that.

 

He wanted to matter to him like that.

 

The rest of the school day was relatively uneventful. Youngjae blew up his phone with texts about how much he fuckin’ hated his French class, he was never going to understand French, Ms. Flores is crazy if she thinks he understands a word she’s been saying for the past hour. Jaebum failed his pre-cal test. His bus home was thirty minutes late. So, really, the usual.

 

He came home to an empty house, which was honestly kind of nice. Sometimes it sucked that his parents worked late, sometimes he liked being able to play his shitty rock music as loud as he wanted to. It really depends on perspective. 

 

So, that’s where he was when someone started knocking on his door hard enough to make it shake on its hinges. He frowned and stared at the door, hoping they’d just go away. Two minutes of silence passed before the knocking continued, slightly less violent now. Jaebum rolled his eyes and grabbed the pocket knife on the end table before opening the door a crack. 

 

A mess of limbs and blond hair was waiting for him on the porch.

 

“ _ Mark? _ ” 

 

Mark tried to give him a smile but he looked to stressed for it to be genuine. “Hi.” A pause. “Can I come in?” Jaebum opened the door the rest of the way, gesturing for him to come inside. Mark awkwardly sat on his couch and pretended not to notice the knife in Jaebum’s hand.

 

They were quiet for a while, listening to some singer whine about his ex girlfriend. Slowly, Jaebum sat down next to him.

 

“Okay, let me just get to the point. This is going to sound fucking nuts but I need you to hear me out,” Mark said, his words rushing together. He nodded and waited for him to continue. “I think we should leave.”

 

Jaebum stared at him. “Leave?” 

 

Mark nodded. “As in, run away. For good. Like, not coming back, ever.” 

 

There were a few things wrong with this situation. The first being that Jaebum had never given Mark his address. The second being that they barely knew each other. But, most importantly, Mark Tuan wanted to  _ run away  _ with him. Like, fucking elope, or something. Fuck. 

 

He blinked. “You want to run away?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He paused, thinking. “Uh, why?”

 

Mark stood up. “Because we both fucking hate it here. There’s nothing for us here, anyway, you know? I mean, I can tell how much you hate this place and everyone in it. You don’t talk to anyone but Youngjae.” He seemed to be struggling, like he wasn’t sure how to put the next part into words. “And, fuck, I hate it here, too. I hate it here so fucking much and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand Jackson, I can’t stand Jinyoung, I can’t stand the shitty fucking traffic here and- and if I stay here one more fucking day I’m going to kill myself. I’m going to kill myself, Jaebum.” 

 

This was a whole fucking lot to take in. 

 

Mark was panting. “I don’t hate you,” he said. And then sat back down, as if he hadn’t just told Jaebum he wanted to fucking run away and if they didn’t run away he was going to kill himself. As if that was just all he wanted to say. 

 

He figured it was best to take this on in sections. “You hate Jackson and Jinyoung?” 

 

Mark swallowed roughly. “Fuck. I guess you don’t know.”

 

“I don’t.” 

 

He ran a hand through his hair, looking at anything but Jaebum. “That night we talked. When I was drunk. I went to get Jackson and he was fucking Jinyoung.”

 

Jackson Wang was a fucking idiot. An absolute fucking  _ idiot _ . 

 

“Holy shit,” was all he could say. He had this overwhelming urge to punch Jackson or break Jinyoung’s nose or maybe just hold Mark. That last one was still up in the air. “God. I’m sorry. Jackson’s a fucking asshole. So is Jinyoung.”

 

“Yeah, well, they were important to me and now everything is fucked up, so.” His tone didn’t really have much bite to it. It just sounded hurt. Unsure of how to comfort him, Jaebum settled for awkwardly patting him on the knee. Because what do you say to someone whose boyfriend cheated on them with their best friend? 

 

“And you hate it here?” Jaebum said. 

 

Mark sighed and nodded. “I think we talked about that when I was drunk, right?” A pause. “Fuck. Yes, I hate it here. I hate the people and I hate school and-”

 

“Everyone hates school,” Jaebum interrupted, and he didn’t know why he was trying to convince Mark of anything, but he was.

 

“Not like I do. I mean,  _ yes _ , everyone hates school, but.. I feel like throwing up when I’m there. Like, constantly. I get this- this weird feeling in my chest, like anxiety but really.. really bad. Fuck, I’m not making sense.” He ran a hand through his hair, obviously stressed. 

 

“And you.. you want to kill yourself?” His voice sounded weird. Like it wasn’t even him speaking. 

 

Mark laughed, but it wasn’t his usual, beautiful laugh. It was odd, strained. “God, I don’t know. I don’t  _ want  _ to, but I feel like I’m  _ going  _ to. If I don’t leave.” Jaebum wasn’t sure when his thumb started moving in circles against Mark’s knee. 

 

Finally, “And you want me to leave with you?”

 

Mark swallowed. “I know it sounds crazy.”

 

It most certainly fucking did sound crazy. It sounded crazy, but so did everything else here. Mark talking to him at the party. Jackson and Jinyoung fucking. The eye contact in the lunch room. Mark sitting with him, on his ugly couch while his shitty punk music played softly in the background. As softly as shitty punk music could play. 

 

“If I say yes,” he said, and  _ fuck _ , he wanted to say yes, “what happens next?”

 

Mark swallowed, his shoulders sagging with relief. He probably knew Jaebum wanted to go with him. Every time he looked at him, Jaebum felt like he could see everything. Even the ugly parts. Especially the ugly parts. “Well,” Mark said, “I have a car. I mean, not with me, because I walked, but.. I have a car. We could go anywhere, we don’t need shit. We just need-” 

 

Jaebum put a hand on his shoulder. “We just need a lot of shit. Like food, money, shelter- a way to keep people from filing a fucking missing persons report.” He didn’t know why the fuck he was trying to talk Mark down when he wanted just as badly to disappear with him. 

 

“Oh, they’re gonna file a report,” Mark replied. “That doesn’t matter. We just have to avoid getting found.” 

 

“And how do we do that?”

 

Mark ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Fuck, I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Look, I understand if.. If you don’t want to. I know you don’t- you don’t know me, but.. I feel-”

 

“I know,” Jaebum whispered, and really hoped they were thinking the same thing. Really hoped he wasn’t alone in the moment in the cafeteria. 

 

“We can take our time,” Mark breathed. “Planning and shit. I just- I want to be out of here by next week. I have to be. One way or another.” 

 

His hand travelled from Mark’s shoulder to lace their fingers together. In that moment, he didn’t feel confused at all. He just..  _ Felt.  _

 

“I’ll do it,” he said, maybe against his better judgement. Maybe. Maybe, but it was worth it to see the look in Mark’s eyes afterwards; to feel his hand squeeze Jaebum’s in excitement. 

 

“Thank fuck,” he said, almost a laugh. “God.” 

 

He shook his head in almost disbelief, squeezing Jaebum’s hand again. “I don’t know if you understand, but.. This means a lot to me.” 

 

Jaebum rubs his thumb in circles between Mark’s thumb and his pointer finger. “I think I do,” he whispered. 

 

For a few brief minutes, they sat and listened to the music, breathing with each other. Drinking each other in, as if they were meeting for the first time. As if the years before this moment had never happened, and the party was some odd fever dream. 

 

Curiosity struck. “Hey, Mark,” Jaebum said, breaking the peace. Whatever peace can be brought by sad singers and shitty radios. “How did you know where to find me?” 

 

At this, Mark laughed. “Oh, God. It’s embarrassing, don’t worry about it. It’s a long story.”

 

And maybe he should’ve run then. Maybe he should’ve taken the red flag and told Mark to either run away by himself or- or,  _ fuck _ , kill himself. Maybe that’s why he didn’t. Maybe he only went through with it to keep Mark Tuan within reach, alive. 

 

Or maybe he went through with it because red flags are what pretty boys are made of, and there was nothing scary about boys like Mark Tuan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this took so long! i've been really struggling with writer's block and letting my writing be what it is, even if it isn't perfect. thank you so much for waiting!

**Author's Note:**

> i kind of hate myself for posting this because it's not finished and it could be better. we'll get there.


End file.
